Cellar Mates
by ms. commas and ampersands
Summary: Mamoru gets kidnapped... again.  Only this time he has some very interesting company.


Cellar Mates  
Winner of the Sailor Moon Land Criss-Cross Challenge  
by Kihin Ranno  
1/1

Mamoru was no stranger to being kidnapped by nefarious evil-doers. Makoto liked to joke that it was a bad habit of his, though he always took pains to remind her and everyone else that it couldn't really be a habit unless he made the decision to get kidnapped. And honestly, it was never his fault. Really, it wasn't.

Though in retrospect, agreeing to go with Minako to London to investigate all of the strange goings-on had put him in the line of fire. And he had told her he would be quite all right on his own. He still maintained that he had been, at least up until the fact that a witch – a literal witch – had snuck up on him and put him through the worst pain of his life simply by pointing a stick at him.

He was never going to hear the end of it.

Mamoru groaned, holding his sore head and taking a look at his surroundings. He'd certainly been held in more disturbing strongholds than this. In fact, it really just looked like a very large basement, which he far preferred to the throne rooms he usually found himself in. As far as kidnappings went, this was bordering on normal.

"You're dressed very nicely. Or you were. I'm sorry Bellatrix ruined your tuxedo."

Mamoru turned, surprised to find that he was not alone. As a matter of fact, he seemed to have two cellmates (or cellar mates, as it were). One was a very old man, who looked that much older curled up in the corner of the dripping basement, rocking back and forth, muttering to himself. Clearly, the two of them were not going to become bosom companions.

The other prisoner was a depressingly young girl. The light was dim, but he was accustomed to seeing in the dark. She was probably around sixteen, but she something about her… aura, he supposed, seemed at once too young and too old. He was familiar with the phenomenon after spending so much time around so many magical girls, emphasis on girls. Her hair was pale as starlight, impossibly fine and tangled in dirty knots. He could make out her hollowed cheeks, tattered clothing, and the wine dark bruises on her skin. He couldn't miss her eyes – wide, almost bulbous in appearance and shape. They were the color of ghosts and clouds.

"Err… thank you," he said.

She tilted her head to the side. The side of her neck had dried blood on it that he longed to wipe away. "You have an accent."

Mamoru wondered if the girl always stated the obvious. "Yes. Japanese."

"Is your English very good?" she asked him. "I do hope so. Mr. Ollivander doesn't talk much anymore, and when he does, it doesn't make much sense. I think he might have gone mad." She shook her head, a little sad, but entirely too comfortable with this idea in Mamoru's opinion. "Sometimes I talk with Draco when he isn't at Hogwarts, but he yells quite a bit. I expect he feels quite guilty, but then I suppose I would too if I was a Death Eater."

Mamoru thought his English was excellent – that's why Minako had invited him after all – but he understood maybe half of what this strange girl said.

She continued, "I wouldn't mind so much, but I've only just gotten used to having friends and people to talk to. Now I don't have any." She blinked, he swore for the first time since she'd begun speaking. "I've been quite lonely."

"Um," Mamoru said, grappling for normalcy. "What's your name?"

"Luna Lovegood."

Mamoru couldn't help it: he laughed.

Luna peered over her shoulder. "Is a Nargle making a face at you? They do that sometimes when I'm not looking."

"No," Mamoru insisted, wishing he had the slightest idea what this girl was on about. "It's just my… girlfriend has a cat by that name."

Luna smiled, lighting up. Mamoru was reminded of a dying star. "How wonderful. I've never heard of a cat called Luna."

"I've never heard of a person called Luna either."

"It's not terribly common," Luna confided. "I suppose people are afraid naming their children after the moon is liable to make them mad."

Mamoru didn't want to think about the moon just then, so he said, "My name's Mamoru," forgoing his superhero title. He certainly did not feel like one at the moment. "How long have you been here?"

"Since Christmas. What day is it?"

"Well, I'm not sure how much time's passed since I was knocked out... Around mid-March."

Luna frowned. "I was hoping Harry would have saved Mr. Ollivander and me by now." She smiled at Mamoru proudly. "He's a friend of mine, you know. If he knew he was here, he'd save me."

"Umm… excellent," Mamoru said. "I have a friend as well. Sort of a friend. More of a business associate I suppose…. Anyway, she's much like your Harry. She'll save me once she knows where I am." He sighed. "Not before mocking me first, but that would be too much to hope for I suppose."

Luna looked quietly amazed. "I didn't know there was anyone like Harry. He's quite special, you realize."

"The Chosen One," Ollivander moaned. The sound of his voice made Mamoru shudder.

"Hush, Mr. Ollivander. You know I don't like it when people call Harry that. He's just Harry."

Mamoru couldn't help but be curious. "Why do they call him The Chosen One?"

Luna turned back to him. She neither looked nor sounded shocked, but Mamoru could tell she was surprised nonetheless. "Don't you know?"

"I'm not exactly from around here. Japan, remember?"

"But… you don't know who Harry is? Harry Potter?"

Mamoru told her didn't.

Luna grinned again. She looked truly alive for the first time. No longer a dying star, or even the distant moon, but a thriving sun.

And then she told him the story of The Boy Who Lived.


End file.
